


Children of Prophecy

by Shadow777997



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Vernon Dursley, Albus Dumbledore means well, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels (Supernatural) - Freeform, Asexual Character, Demons (Supernatural) - Freeform, Female Harry Potter, Good Petunia Evans Dursley, Harry Potter is Half Demon, Harry Potter is Not a Horcrux, Hermione Granger is Neville's older sister, Magical Dudley Dursley, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective Hermione Granger, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, but he's an idiot, different prophecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow777997/pseuds/Shadow777997
Summary: The night a prophecy was made that would change the lives of their daughter's, no one could have foreseen the level that the Potter's and Longbottom's would go to in order to protect their families. Or the deals that would be made.Amara Potter and Hermione Longbottom. The children fated to destroy the dark lord. Dumbledore expected it to be a challenge to pull off in the end, but he saw it as being possible nonetheless. He just figured it wouldn't also end with three countries in flames, the government overrun by killer ducks, and he didn't expect the girl's themselves to be the spawn of heaven and hell.Merlin, he should have taken the offered early retirement when he had the chance....
Relationships: Future relationships to be determined
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	1. Children of Heaven and Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had intended this story to not be a focus of mine until after I'd come closer to finishing my other one, Seal of Fate. But plans change and writer's block on that story is a bitch that convinced me to at least get this story's idea out of my head and down on a document. This story is similar to Seal of Fate in that it's got a combination of elements from both universes of Harry Potter and Supernatural, only in this case the two worlds are essentially one and the same. 
> 
> This only exists because I got the idea stuck in my head of what the world of Harry Potter would be like if Harry and Hermione were not only both the children of Prophecy, but insanely powerful supernatural entities. My mind is a weird place sometimes, that's all I can say. Hopefully someone on this site will be interested enough in reading this, at least until I can jump back on my other story, though even then I'm not likely to abandon this fic anytime soon if someone actually ends up enjoying it at all so no worries there lol. 
> 
> Now onto the first chapter itself!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter involves some fairly morally grey matters concerning Lily and James' actions towards protecting their daughter. Remember, they're in the middle of a desperate war and only just found out they're likely to have a child who would be in danger from the enemy. The Potter's don't take family lightly, and in this story will go to literally any end necessary to do what it takes to protect their only child.

One cool January morning, Albus Dumbledore starred in growing shock as Sybill Trelawney, the only applicant he’d received for the position of Divination teacher after the last had retired - he’d almost considered canceling the class entirely before noting the relation Sybill had to a famous seer several generations back - slipped into a trance that would irrevocably alter two very special children’s lives.

_ “The ones with the powers to vanquish the Dark Lord approach...born to those who have each thrice defied him, born as the seventh and ninth months die...and the Dark Lord shall mark them as his equal, but they will have powers the Dark Lord knows not...she with the power to surpass his, as the other daughter shall destroy him for good...and either must die at the hands of the other for none can live while all survive...the ones with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born each as the seventh and ninth months die…” _

Unbeknownst to either of the room’s occupants, the prophecy was heard by another, a man who would go on to live the rest of his life in regret for his actions following that night, for his role in killing the closest person he had to a sister.

“Thrice defied...The Potters and Longbottoms! Lily is not expecting any child that I know of, but dear Alice has only just given birth to little Hermione not four months ago. As the ninth month dies...They need to be protected!” Albus was distracted from his worries as the woman in front of him came out of her trance with a startled gasp, looking around in confusion. He knew the danger she had unknowingly placed herself in, and did not hesitate to give her the job she so clearly needed.

_ ‘I need to warn both families. I only hope we can protect them well enough until Tom can be vanquished…’ _

* * *

In the end, while both the Potter’s and Longbottom’s agreed to individual castings of the Fidelius charm to try and keep themselves hidden, Albus himself becoming the Secret Keeper for Alice and Frank considering one of the children who were almost certainly part of the prophecy was already born and in the most immediate danger, and the Potter’s begrudgingly agreeing with Sirius to switch to using Peter at the last second in some last ditch effort to throw off anyone who might know them too well. Albus had considered the fact that Alice may very well end up giving birth to both children of the prophecy, until the news came back that she was expecting a boy this time around the fated month, so the Potter’s were still at risk even if Lily giving birth to a child by July’s end was very slim. 

They agreed to Dumbledore’s plan, but they did not put their full faith in it, not when their children’s lives were at stake. Alice and Lily, friends since the moment they met in their first year at Hogwarts, both conspired with their respective husbands about using even older forms of magic to ensure their (possible in Lily’s case) children’s safety. 

In the end, as January neared its end, it was Lily who stumbled upon two possible answers in a very much illegal book on dark magic that quite possibly pre-dated the founders of Hogwarts- thanks Sirius and his family’s obsession with forbidden magic and hoarding a library full of it for centuries. Never let it be doubted the ends a mother would go to for their children.

James had been weary for the briefest moment, but the determined look in his wife’s face made up his mind for him. If he did end up a father, there was nothing he would not do if it meant the kid would be safe from  _ any _ harm, even as he read over the pages depicting the summoning ritual that dated more than three millennium- a summoning that would call forward a force that hadn’t stepped foot on Earth in nearly twice as long a time as the ritual had existed. 

Privately, Lily and James already knew that little Hermione Longbottom was protected by the blood that flowed in her veins and the energy that mingled alongside her human soul. Alice and Frank had already performed a similar, if far more dangerous ritual months before Alice had given birth to their daughter. The war had made the couple fearful of what kind of world they could be bringing their child into, and had conspired to give the same kind of protection to her that Lily and James were about to attempt. In fact, it was that plan that had actually lead to Lily coming up with the slightly modified plan for the different, yet dangerously similar ritual.

Lily couldn’t help thinking as she drew up the last binding circle as James studied the spell’s incantation for the hundredth time, that her best friend besides Severus had gotten the much better deal of the two of them. After all, Alice had to only be possessed by the devil for a week for their plan to be put into place. If she and James didn’t die before the night was over, Lily would be conceiving a child - her daughter - with the devil’s right hand man, er,  _ demon _ , walking around in her husband’s body.

Suffice it to say, this plan  _ bloody fucking sucked _ . But it was the only way to be sure their child would be safe, as well as ensuring the prophecy came to fruition. Both daughter’s needed to survive alongside each other for the Dark Lord to be defeated for good. The slightest chance for either dying, could doom everyone to an agonizing death as Britain fell to Voldemort’s forces.

“Are we certain that we can’t just ask this thing to just swat You-know-who like a bug? It says he’s beyond powerful among his own kind, what’s one mortal?” James posed hesitantly as Lily stood from her hunched position inspecting the circles one last time to make sure they were secure. Lily just glared at her husband.

“Because demons like him don’t kill for free James. We could ask him to do it instead, but it would almost certainly cost both of our souls. Plus it would leave Amara without any protections in place, and I’m NOT risking my daughter being in danger from Death Eater’s just because I was too squeamish to get knocked up by a bloody demon to give her the power to be safe. Now summon this bastard already so we can on with our lives and contemplate murdering Albus for being too big of a coward to kill the Dark Lord himself.” James stared at her in confusion for a second.

“Amara? But I thought we would name her-”

“I’m _not_ naming my only daughter any variant of ‘Harry’ just because of the Potter hair dammit! Besides, it’s a strong name that has struck fear in the heart’s of countless people over the centuries and that’s exactly what my little girl is going to grow up to do. I dare any boy to try and pull some stunt with her…”

“Strong name to help her scare off any boys? All right, consider me convinced. Also what’s so wrong with something like ‘Hera’ or ‘Harriet’? They’re both lovely names- right, shutting up about it now. Won’t mention it again. How about I start summoning this thing already?” He quickly cut off his attempt at trying to argue his point at the murderous glare from his wife that likely threatened the removal of his genitals if he didn’t shut up in the next few seconds. He turned back to the ancient grimoire in his hands as Lily lit the ring of candles around the outer edge of the summoning circles. James was mentally thanking the Black family for having translated the no doubt now dead dialect centuries ago within the copy of the book he started reading from.

“We call upon you, eldest son of Adam and Eve, father and mother of magic, to come before us on this night so that a bargain can be struck. We invoke your name, servant of the fallen angel, leader of hell’s greatest knights, appear before us now so that a vow can be enacted. Father of Murder, come forward to us tonight so a deal can be made and sealed.”

Thunder echoed and crashed outside the window of the small cottage in Godric’s Hollow as an unseen gust of wind extinguished the candles at once. Jame blinked for the briefest of seconds, only to startle backwards several steps as a tall figure appeared within that second, hands tucked casually inside the pockets of his jeans, a bored but slightly curious look on his face that was framed with shoulder length graying hair.

“Well now, isn’t this a curious little surprise? James and Lily...Potter. Summoning  _ me _ of all people? You  _ must _ be desperate in this little war of yours to need  _ my _ involvement. Your names are both on the ends of quite a few tongues among hell, and even heaven’s little errand boys and girl’s are whispering about you after what your little friend Alice did. Naughty girl, Alice, but a desperate mother who cared only about her family’s safety. I respect that about her, and something tells me that it’s a trait I’ll come to respect about both of you before our business is done tonight. So, what’s your request, hmm? What kind of ‘deal’ is it you apparently want to make that a simple crossroad demon wouldn’t be able to fulfill?"

Lily squared her shoulders slightly and met the eyes of perhaps the most dangerous demonic entity in creation. “We know that a prophecy was made that likely involves our future daughter-”

“It does.” Cain confirmed casually, as though he were talking about the weather instead of the life of their future child being bound to vague words. “Dumbledore himself tried contacting a demon or two to try and barter for protection for your families. None of my kind would take said deal. He wanted to offer Tom Riddle’s soul within twenty years instead of his own, the idiot. Crossroad demons only take the  _ summoner’s _ soul as payment, no one else's, least of all one as mangled and torn up as Tom’s. So let me guess...you want your little future tyke to be safe and sound from the big bad dark wizard?” Lily and James nodded. “And what will you offer me in return?”

“First, how do we know you can even deliver the kind of protection we would need?” James questioned as Cain shot him a look of mock offense.

“Well aren’t you the rude one? I’m a  _ demon _ , James. A powerful one with few weaknesses unlike my kin, but a demon nonetheless. The right incentive offered and I could swat Tom myself if you asked and stick your future daughter in a pocket dimension for a few decades until Tom’s followers all die of old age before pulling her back out where she’d be at zero risk of harm. A simple protective spell no wizard can break is child’s play. In fact-” Cain waved his hand through the air slightly and a simple book appeared in it a second later before he held it up for them to see. 

“The Grand Coven’s grimoire. An ancient spellbook from a group of powerful witches over in the states that contains more powerful protective magic in it’s pages then every magical library in the world combined. As well as more interesting spells as well, but those aren’t important here or now. I’ll offer you the page depicting a blood protection ward powerful enough that your little ‘Dark Lord’ can’t lay a finger on your daughter till the end of time so long as she has a blood relative to live within the house of. But you need to offer me something in return, a reason for caring about if this child lives or dies within the next year. And it better be an interesting enough reason too.”

“What about if the daughter is in part yours?” Cain actually looked stunned by Lily’s suggestion. 

“ _ Mine _ ? Are you suggesting-”

“You possess James or I during the process of conceiving our daughter. I figure it will result in her being born half-demon, and thus powerful beyond any other human besides maybe Hermione. You get a powerful heir to raise after she and Hermione defeats the Dark Lord, and in the process our daughter has the means to protect herself at all times. Sound tempting enough for you?”

Cain raised a brow and tilted his head slightly to the side. “You should be aware that a human-demon hybrid has only ever been conceived  _ once _ before in human history. The child of a lesser demon, and he was able to potentially destroy all of heaven and hell with a word should Lucifer have been released from his prison fully. A child sired from my power could achieve unthinkable levels of destruction or chaos if she so wanted.” 

Lily nodded. “We figured. And we couldn’t care less about the risk to the rest of the world, not if it means our daughter gets to survive and live her life how she wants. Nothing is more important to us.” Cain nodded.

“I see. Not even conceived yet, and you already care enough for your future daughter that you would let the world burn if it meant she was safe. I see my assumption for offering my respect to you both was an accurate one after all. Then you should both also know in advance that using the blood protection will mean you won’t be able to raise her yourselves should it need to be triggered, which it  _ will _ in the end. Prophecies are set in stone, and this one involves your daughter and the Longbottom’s girl, but not with you two in the picture as she grows up. The ward requires two  _ willing _ lives to be sacrificed for the one it will protect in order to activate. The lives of those who share the intended person’s blood.”

James and Lily shared a pained look at that before she spoke up. “So in order to remove any doubt of our daughter’s chances of surviving, we’d have to give our lives for her in the end?” Cain nodded slowly, only to raise his eyebrows in slight surprise when they both nodded firmly before looking back at him.

“We’ll accept that price then. When the time comes. But you have to agree to ensure whatever relatives Albus puts her with treat her well and with kindness.”

“I make no promises, as there are limits to what even I can do. If the people she is sent to live with have even an ounce of compassion towards her, then I’ll be able to nurture it within their hearts so that they will care for her as though she were their own child. But if there isn’t even that much, there’s little I can do. I cannot create false feelings of kindness in a heart that is incapable of feeling it for even an infant. I’ll take a look into what’s there, but it won’t be a priority of mine. The deal’s already swung heavily in my favor as it is, I have little need to offer much more on my end.”

“That’ll have to be enough I guess. If nothing else, we’ll know when going to our deaths that our daughter won’t have to suffer the same fate before she’s even lived her life.”

“Then, do we have a deal? The spell in exchange for one of you being possessed by me for a night to conceive the child as a cambion instead of her otherwise fully human self? I’ll even throw in the extra family check in and evaluation when the time comes to make sure the little tyke is in somewhat safe hands. I’ll also show up when her powers start manifesting to teach her about her other heritage and how to keep herself from blowing up a universe or thinking creation into extinction. You won’t get a better bargain then that, not without selling your souls first.”

James stepped forward with a firm nod. “It’s a deal. But you possess me and allow me to stay in control during it all. I’m not risking you hurting my wife.”

Cain shrugged lightly at that. “Fine by me. I have little actual interest in the sex lives of a couple of humans. I’ll be a backseat driver so to speak, and my demonic essence will be passed down to the child in the process. No more, no less. Then I’m gone for a good couple of years until little Suzie starts setting things on fire with her mind.”

“Amara. Her name’s going to be Amara. May as well learn it since you’re essentially going to be her co-sire.” Cain shot them a strange look at the name before chuckling quietly and shaking his head.

“Oh the irony. I’m sure Lucifer will enjoy it soon enough. Now if you’ll break up this little devil’s trap you’ve got me in, we can shake on it to seal the deal and get to work on creating the tiny hybrid.”

James snorted in amusement as Lily pointed her wand at the binding circle and muttered ‘diffindo’ under her breath as the wooden floor was slashed through the circle. “What, no kiss? Isn’t that usually what demons do?”

Cain shot him an unamused look. “Only the crossroad whores who think it’s amusing to unnerve their clients. Besides, I’m the more professional type of demonic deal maker, even if it’s not my specialty. A handshake is more than binding enough in my books, thanks. Not to mention my wife would likely kill me again if I entertained that idea. Being partly responsible for a demon human hybrid will be trouble enough in her eyes.”

James tilted his head forward. “Fair enough. I understand that kind of fear.” Lily shot him a murderous glare before he held out his hand for Cain to take, before they both shook on it. 

“Now what?” Lily asked, looking between the two wearily. Cain smirked slightly.

“Now I uphold my end of the deal.  _ Catch _ .” He tossed the spellbook to her, and Lily fumbled to grasp it in her hands, only to gasp a second later as Cain turned into a cloud of blood red smoke that poured into James’ mouth for a few seconds before he gasped as well.

“Merlin’s beard that was strange. But I still feel like I’m in control at least, so he kept up his end of the bargain so far.”

Lily huffed before walking out of the room and towards their bedroom. “Then let’s get on with it before he decides you’re going too slow. This is  _ not _ what I had in mind when you suggested trying to spice up our love life.” She muttered as James grimaced at the annoyed tone of his wife’s voice. He had the distinct feeling that this was not going to be a pleasant evening for him despite the idea that they’d be aiming towards the goal of their first and likely only child.

One rather _ painfu _ l (for James at least. He was still baffled as to why his wife even  _ knew _ a charm for turning her wand into a rather sharp whip) night and seven months of enduring Lily’s rather extreme pregnancy induced mood swings (that he was certain left their share of trauma upon his fragile psyche) and the young couple was now welcoming their newborn daughter into the world with relieved smiles that it had been worth it.

Only for them to both panic slightly when Amara, barely ten minutes old, broke three of the doctor’s fingers as he tried checking over her health. 

It was risky and almost always with some type of health problem being present when a baby was born two months premature. They weren’t even fully sure how she was alive, though her parents shared knowing looks when the staff of St. Mungo's were distracted. It seemed demonic essence resulted in a faster then average pregnancy, and just in time for the last day of July.

“She’s already showing accidental magic. Your daughter’s going to be quite the witch when she grows up.” One of the nurses chuckled at her colleague's pain as the superhuman strength was written off by the staff as accidental magic.

On July 31st, 1980, the second child of prophecy was born, and with her, the power to either surpass the darkest wizard in the last fifty years, or utterly destroy him. Only time would tell which between Amara and little Hermione would accomplish what feat with their ‘powers the Dark Lord knew not’.

* * *

One year and three months exactly. That was how long it took the Dark Lord to shatter the Fidelius charms over the Potter Cottage in Godric’s hollow and the Longbottom’s safehouse. It was barely enough time to get to spend watching little Amara grow up in her first year, and yet it was more time then Lily and James expected to have with their child. 

In the year since that fateful night that a deal was struck with Cain, the Potter’s had long since etched the necessary runes and sigils into the underside of their daughter’s crib and had long since fed it their combined blood to charge it with the necessary power, keeping any knowledge of their plan secret from Albus. The only piece missing was their sacrifices.

As Lily ran up the stairs to say goodbye to her daughter, the sounds of the Fidelius charm being shattered echoing throughout the small cottage, she knew in that moment that something very wrong must have happened. The Fidelius charm did not just ‘shatter’ when the secret was revealed.

_ ‘He’s found another way to bypass it then. Peter didn’t sell us out! I hope Sirius doesn’t jump to conclusions and try to attack him. Amara’s going to need her godfather now more than ever.’ _

She kneeled in front of her daughter’s crib, Amara standing wobbly on her legs with a confused expression. “Amara, sweety. Know that you are loved-” The sound of the front door to the cottage exploding and a shout of  _ ‘Avada Kedavra’ _ a few seconds later told her that James had refused to step aside. Half of the ward’s payment had been made, and now it was time she filled the rest. “Daddy and mommy love you so much. Know that we did everything we could to keep you safe. When the truth is revealed, please do not hate us for what was done. You are the most important thing in our lives, and we did everything to give you a chance to live.” She whispered as the door to the nursery slammed open and Lily hurried to her feet, turning to face her soon to be murderer.

“Step aside, you idiotic girl. Step aside now.”

“Never. You’ll have to kill me before I let you anywhere near our daughter!”

The cloaked figure chuckled, a rasping and cold sound. “A shame. Severus so begged for your life to be spared. But I cannot allow my would-be destroyers to live any longer. Even now my servants are toying with that pathetic excuse of a pure-blood family. Their daughter will soon follow yours into the void!  _ Avada Kedavra! _ ”

A flash of green was the last thing that Lily saw before her body crumpled to the ground. The Dark Lord stepped past her body and looked upon the eyes of his supposed vanquisher- a piercing green that reminded him distinctively of his favorite of the unforgivable curses.

“I have to wonder, which one you would have grown to be? My destroyer, or the one with power that surpasses my own. There is strength in you, little one, that much is clear already. Almost a shame, to see it snuffed out so early.  _ Almost _ . But only I can survive this night.  _ Avada Kedavra! _ ” Voldemort grinned as the curse struck the child in the chest, only to widen his eyes in horror as it rebounded back on him instead and destroyed his physical body as his soul fled from the house’s ruins.

“So. The Prophecy has been rendered self-fulfilling after all. And on Samhain’s night of all nights. I do so love the irony in these little things.” Cain stated to himself as he appeared within the small room a few minutes later, tutting at the sight of Lily’s dead body. “A shame. A child should never have to grow up without their mother, especially one with as much love in their heart as you have Lily.” He glanced over at the now crying infant and felt the briefest moment of pity for her loss.

“Now now, no tears. Things are only just getting started kiddo. You’re going to live quite the interesting little life, aren’t you? Yet you haven’t started developing your powers nearly as quickly as you should be, how odd. Well, might as well give you the little kick you need to get jump started, the nephilim is already developing her mind much faster than others her age should be. I’m not about to let my daughter fall behind Lucifer’s brat.” He walked over to the crib and reached down to pick up the child, only to frown at the feeling of a separate presence in the child’s soul. 

“An accidental Horcrux. Well, can’t just leave that to fester now, can I?” Cain waved his hand over Amara’s chest, a small wisp of black smoke pouring out of the bleeding wound as the soul fragment was removed and banished with a flick of his wrist. “There. All better, and now that wound can actually heal somewhat properly. I’d fix it myself, but healing isn’t my specialty.” He then pricked the pad of his thumb with his nail and held it over the infant’s mouth as blood dripped into it.

“Demon blood really is full of handy benefits. Azazel wasn’t wrong there. Not the most appetizing thing in the world, but it’ll get the job done in kicking your little powers into action earlier including a nifty healing factor to start closing that little cut of yours. After all, what’s the point in all this if you can’t actually  _ use _ those powers until you’re in your twenties? Doesn’t serve much of an advantage or keep you safe by that point.” He stated rhetorically, glancing up from his daughter when an older looking man stumbled into the room, a look of growing horror on his face as he took in the sight.

The wizard pointed an eerily familiar wand at him. “Whoever you are, put down Amara.  _ Now _ !” 

Cain raised one of his brows and jutted his chin towards the wall as the Elder wand was pulled telekinetically out of the old man’s grasp, clattering against the wall and sticking there. “See, I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders to  _ me _ , Albus.” He pulled his hand away from the infant’s mouth, mending the cut with barely a thought before he gestured with two fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. Dumbledore was pulled by an invisible force towards the Knight of Hell before Cain placed his two fingers against his temple firmly, red energy pulsing through his skin as he peered into the man’s mind.

“Now then, let’s see where you plan to leave my daughter for the next decade, shall we? I’ve got a deal to fulfill after all.” He chuckled humorously at Dumbledore’s feeble attempts at using Occlumency to try and keep him out. 

“Sorry old man. Wizard tricks like that can’t keep me out nearly as well as you'd like. Ah, I see. Lily’s sister and her husband. Fitting, it would trigger the blood wards quite nicely after all. Though they’re not big fans of magic- trying to turn Amara here into an obedient little soldier huh? Well that’s not gonna happen anytime soon. Not that you’ll remember hearing that fact of course.” Cain removed his fingers from the man’s temple only to tap them against his forehead, rendering him unconscious for roughly two minutes while removing his memories of the last five minutes. More than enough time. He turned back to the crib and placed the child back in it.

“Try to stay out of trouble kiddo. At least for the first couple of years. You’re still too young to rain hell on your own.” He spoke quietly before looking at the unconscious wizard next to him. “And now for a friendly little house evaluation. Lets see if at least one of these humans the old fool plans to leave you with are actually capable of empathy towards you in the first place.” With that, Cain vanished into thin air, appearing a few seconds later at number 4 Privet drive.

He knocked on the door and waited for half a minute before the locks clicked open and the door itself swung open a moment later to reveal a thin looking woman with blonde hair- the girl’s aunt, going off of Dumbledore’s memory.

“Who is it and what are you doing here at this ungodly hour?!” She questioned, only to freeze in growing horror at the sight of him, likely some instinct telling her he was far from normal. Cain lifted the same two fingers he had used to search through Dumbledore’s mind not ten minutes ago, and pressed them against Petunia’s temple.

“Hmm. Not a big fan of magic it seems- understandable for someone who was skipped over from being born with it and her younger sister was instead. Jealousy towards said sister, but also sorrow and regret. You intended to try and reach out tomorrow morning to try and patch things up with her after all these years. A shame you were one day too late, but nonetheless, they’re feelings I can work with. A bit of nurturing here and there, and you’ll see your niece as the chance to try and do the right thing for your sister’s last wish. Though your mind alone tells me your husband will be a very different case.” 

He removed his fingers from her forehead and strolled past her into the house in search of Vernon as Petunia blinked in confusion and closed the door- the encounter already gone from her mind as Cain shifted into being invisible. He approached the snoring lump of fat and anger that was his daughter’s uncle, and pressed his fingers against the man’s temple as well, slipping into his mind and heart with ease.

“Anger. Bitterness. Hatred for anything outside of your narrow minded view of ‘normal’. There’s next to no love in your heart, and what little there is is about as easily swayed as the wind. A pity there’s nothing to even work with in your pathetic self. You’d neglect and emotionally abuse a child without a second thought just because they were different from you. Ironic then, that your own son is far from normal either. I can smell the magic from him even down here. Perhaps I’ll come around in a few days and offer you a deal you can’t refuse, pop back here in about ten years and take my payment from you then. God knows the world would be better off with you rotting in the pit.”

Cain nodded before teleporting into Petunia and Vernon’s bedroom where their son Dudley lay asleep in his crib. He placed his fingers against the sleeping boy’s temple. “Interesting. Already your father’s trying to mold you into a spoiled brat, and you’re not even two years old yet. I think a bit stronger of a moral conscience, one your mother will likely strengthen over the years, and a dash more compassion towards other human beings, and you could end up a halfway decent person by the time your letter arrives. You don’t need nearly as much work as your mother did, and I think you’ll be a decent cousin to my daughter over the years. Don’t make me regret not tempering you further.”

A knock on the front door told him it was time to leave. He could already feel Dumbledore’s magic walking away from the distinct energy that was Amara Potter, and Cain shook his head at the headmaster’s gall. “Couldn’t even bother seeing her placed in the hands of her relatives. Maybe I’ll sic a few hellhounds on the old man before his time is up. He’s certainly far from a saint. Alistair would enjoy torturing him.” He muttered before teleporting out of his house and to the sidewalk nearby. 

Cain watched as Petunia Evans opened the door with an annoyed look on her face, only to glance down and for it to change into a look of worry. The corner of his mouth ticked up slightly in a hint of a smirk.

“Looks like my job for the next decade is done. I’ll be seeing you soon enough, kiddo. Things are about to get interesting for once. Joy of joy, as if Colette needed another reason to argue me out of retirement.” Letting out an exhausted sigh, Cain shook his head in exasperation for getting pulled back into everyone’s petty problems before teleporting away.


	2. A Deal's a Deal

Amara knew instinctively, or at least as instinctively as an eleven year old girl could know, that her childhood was far from normal. She’d have to be a blind, deaf, and utterly stupid fool to not be aware of this blaring fact. And she  _ hated _ being called a fool.

Most children didn’t live in a cupboard under the stairs since they were four years old. Most children didn’t have a cousin who could lift things without touching them, or fix things with a wave of his hand. 

A child wasn’t supposed to worry about their family’s safety after seeing their uncle hit their cousin and aunt across the face in anger and rage. A child wasn’t supposed to feel hatred towards said uncle in their hearts at the tender age of seven like she did.

Other kids her age were not called ‘freak’ or ‘it’ in a drunken slur as their uncle helped himself to more scotch in the evening. Other kids her age couldn’t talk to snakes or spiders like she could, even Dudley couldn’t hear the secrets they whispered and words of comfort and about how things were ‘soon changing’.

Her classmates for the most part, didn’t have to live in a home where only their aunt offered any kindness to them, unlike uncle Vernon. Then again, most of the kids in her and Dudley’s class actually had parents who offered them plenty of kindness, unlike her. Amara’s parents were dead since she was an infant after all. Her aunt said they were killed by a bad man during a bad fight, but her uncle liked to argue that they were worthless freaks like her who died in a car crash because her dad was too drunk to pay attention.

Amara liked aunt Petunia’s version better. If only because it seemed to paint the image that her parents at least cared about her, and only died because they tried to protect her from the bad man.

One of the good things that made her life different from the other children besides her cousin, was that they were both told about magic by Petunia. About how they’d both be going to a school that taught all about it when they turned eleven, and for the first time in her young life, Amara actually had something exciting to look forward to in only a year. An excitement that was mirrored on Dudley’s face, because it meant that there were plenty of others out in the world who could do the things that they could, that it was proof they weren’t a couple of freaks like uncle Vernon insisted.

It was on her eleventh birthday that another good thing happened. With whispers of ‘soon’ over and over again from the spiders in her cupboard, Amara had walked into the kitchen to start helping her aunt with breakfast like usual. She glanced up through the small window in front of the sink after her uncle walked out to check the mailbox, muttering about ‘ungrateful freaks still making us do the work they should’ under his breath, when she saw them.

Two massive black dogs, standing in the middle of the street plain as day. No-one was around to see them of course, it was still rather early in the morning after all. No-one, except for uncle Vernon, and a strange looking man with graying hair and strange eyes. Even from twenty feet away and inside the house, Amara could still see his eyes as clear as day- solid black, with a burning red ring in the middle of each. She barely noticed the burning red eyes of the large dogs on either side of the stranger, but her uncle certainly did when he startled back several steps in fright.

“Something wrong Amara?” Her aunt’s voice barely drew her attention from the scene in front of her as the man and her uncle started talking back and forth, even if she couldn’t hear or read what they were actually saying.

“I don’t think so. Auntie, who’s that man talking to uncle Vernon outside? The one with the big dogs?” 

Petunia peered through the window with a confused look. “Amara, there’s no-one else out there but Vernon. And what’s he doing just sitting on the ground like that? He’s going to get his pants all dirty before work and I am not cleaning them a second time in two days. I just washed the bloody things.”

Amara didn’t much care about the state of her uncle’s fancy pants so much as she was confused by the man her aunt apparently couldn’t see. “Yes there is! He’s standing less than twenty feet away from where uncle Vernon’s staring. He’s got two giant black dogs on either side of him! Don’t you see?” She pointed to where the man was standing, only to jump slightly when the man pointed to Vernon and seemed to shout something at the two dogs before they took off running towards him.

Petunia finally noticed something was wrong when her husband fell over backwards, flat on the ground suddenly. Only for her to scream when his clothes started tearing themselves apart and blood oozed out of cuts that appeared across his body. It was as though Vernon was being attacked by an invisible wild animal, because in a way he was. She ran to the front door to try and help, only to find that it wouldn’t open regardless of how hard she tried to yank it.

Back in the kitchen, Amara watched silently as the black dogs attacked her uncle as the stranger watched on with an almost bored look on his face. She knew that she should be horrified at seeing another person being savagely ripped apart, but a part of her couldn’t help but remember all the days locked in the cupboard because her uncle was afraid her freakishness would cause problems. She remembered every time he’d brought his hand down on her cousin and aunt’s faces in a drunken fit because they had the ‘gall’ to try and stop him from drinking anymore. Every uttered ‘freak’ and ‘it’ he had spit in her face was front and center in her mind as she watched him torn apart. 

And despite knowing it was probably wrong to do so, Amara couldn’t help but smile slightly when her uncle’s twitching arms finally stilled and the dogs backed away, pleased that their work was done. She met the stranger’s eyes as the dogs rejoined their master’s side and he shot an amused smirk back at her before gesturing with two fingers in a sort of salute before vanishing into thin air along with his hounds.

She heard the front door finally give in to her aunt’s efforts in opening it and watched as she ran outside to where Vernon was, only to clasp her hands over her mouth in horror. Maybe it made her something of a monster to not feel an ounce of regret over his death, but in that moment, knowing that the closest thing she had to real family wasn’t about to be put in danger anymore from her uncle’s temper, Amara couldn’t really find it in herself to care about that possibility. 

Besides, she’d always been more of a fan of the villains and monsters of the stories she’d read growing up then the hero’s who beat them down just for existing and having their own goals. The world was already filled with plenty of would-be heroes and saviors, but it also needed monsters to exist in a state of balance. Good and evil, push and pull, light and darkness, etc. The man who ordered his vicious dogs to attack a defenseless but cruel man was probably seen as a monster in his own right.

If it meant that she would end up doing something similar one day, attacking the cruel people in the world, then maybe being a monster sounded like a fair tradeoff to her.

* * *

Hermione was many things- a slightly overprotective older sister to her brother Neville, insanely smart and mature for her age if a bit less talkative compared to even her brother who himself was incredibly shy at most times, and apparently very talented when it came to magic despite only being eleven soon to be twelve come September. What she was not, was a naive or a fool.

She could hear how most of her uncles and aunts thought her brother was a Squib who couldn’t do any magic- a stupid idea really, because she could literally  _ see _ the magic in him. He was just a bit of a late bloomer when it came to it manifesting properly and she told Neville as such every time he started to doubt himself because of their ‘family’s’ words. And she hated all of them for that. 

But the person she most hated was their grandmother. Augusta Longbottom was many things, a skilled witch in her own right, a brave person when push came to shove, and a mother who deeply cared for her only son and his wife. What she was not, was a fitting person to raise the children of said son and his wife after Hermione and Neville’s parents were attacked and driven insane. 

Hermione hated how the woman thought it was perfectly fine to state her disappointment in her grandson when he failed to produce any accidental magic by the time he’d turn  _ six _ . She hated how Neville was expected by their grandmother to represent their entire family’s honor and reputation by himself. And she hated the fact that the reason existed solely because of her.

‘Gran’ had been perfectly content to spend hours at a time complaining about Hermione being the reason that their parents were now in a mental health ward at St. Mungo's where they’d likely never recover enough to be able to leave again. Worse, Hermione couldn’t even try to argue that the woman was wrong in the first place.

She remembered, despite barely being two at the time, the night that her parent’s home was broken into with a loud bang of the door being blasted off its hinges. She remembered the fear in her mother’s eyes as Hermione herself hugged her brother in an effort to try and stop his crying at the scary noise before a woman with wild black hair and an even more wild look in her eyes pointed a bent stick at her parents and shouted ‘Crucio’. And all because she was part of some stupid prophecy that threatened the black haired woman’s ‘master’.

Even at that young an age, Hermione’s mind had been remarkably sharp and developed further than most her age were. Throughout the hours she had to watch her parents being tortured into insanity, the only thing going through her mind were two thoughts; Keep her brother safe in any way possible, and make the bad people who hurt her parents pay in the end. She was glad her brother was too young to actually remember that night, Hermione would much prefer that kind of trauma being something only she would have to deal with instead of both of them.

“Hermione! Neville! Come down here for a minute would you?” The grating voice of ‘gran’ as Neville called the woman called out. Hermione prefered different terms for the person who was supposedly their grandmother- she-beast, hag, the devil’s mother. To name a small handful at least.

She left her room and waited for her brother before they descended down the stairs as a team. It was better to appear as a pair, instead of separate where the woman would only have an easier time picking apart whatever imaginary flaws she saw fit to that day.

Augusta glanced up from the copy of the Daily Prophet she was reading, only to scoff and roll her eyes. “Hermione dear, you really should try to put more effort into taming that mess you call hair.” 

She felt the corner of her eye twitch in irritation at the typical ‘comment’ about her bushier than average hair.

_ ‘That didn’t take long. But at least she’s not insulting Neville already. Maybe today will be manageable after all.’ _

“And Neville, you really should try to keep your clothes a bit tidier when you’re actually wearing them instead of when they’re in your wardrobe. Never know when you’ll need to make a good impression on someone.” The twitch grew worse.

_ ‘Must. Not. Strangle!’ _ was repeated over and over again like a mantra in Hermione’s head as she tried to keep that instinctive need to tear apart the thing that was targeting her brother.

“You wanted us for something,  _ Gran _ ?” She bit out while making sure to try and inject just a bit of venom into the name, not that the woman ever paid attention enough when she said it to actually bother noticing.

Augusta nodded distractedly, barely paying attention to her granddaughter. “Yes, I did. As you both know, you’ll be starting at Hogwarts in barely a month from now. That means you’ll be needing wands.” She flicked her own short wand at two boxes that were sitting on one of the small desks in the living room and they flew over to float in the air next to her before she grabbed both and held them out to Neville and Hermione who starred in slight confusion.

“Uh, aren’t we supposed to go to Ollivanders to get our wands? Something about them choosing the wizard and all that?” Hermione was proud at how little nerves seemed to be present in her brother’s voice when he asked that. Their grandmother almost always left Neville trembling in a mix of fear and nerves. Augusta scoffed and rolled her eyes again.

“That’s just something the old fool always says to get more customers. Your parents' wands should work just fine for both of you. Neville dear, you get your father’s wand. And Hermione, your mother’s.” 

As soon as her fingers gripped the light brown piece of wood, Hermione immediately felt almost nauseous to her stomach with the way it felt against her magic. She doubted the bloody thing would listen to a single spell she asked it to do. Based on the look on Neville’s face, his father’s wand was likely just as stubborn feeling as her mother’s was to her.

“Gran, I’m not sure either of these are going to be safe to use. I can feel my magic trying to connect to it, but it’s refusing at every turn. I’d probably sooner blow myself up before casting a spell properly with it.” Neville ventured, knowing he had the better chance of talking the woman into actually letting them get their wands the proper way. Augusta pursed her lips in annoyance at that before huffing.

“Very well. I won’t have you two blowing yourselves up just because your parents wands won’t work as well for you as they did for them. We can stop at Ollivanders later today, after we get done with the rest of your school shopping. Your lists arrived just this morning Neville and we might as well get it all out of the way as soon as possible.”

Hermione nearly sighed in relief at the idea of not having to use her mother’s wand. She was fairly certain the thing would turn a simple levitation charm into an attempt on her life if she actually tried using it.

* * *

Cain didn't normally bother making deals with petty humans. He wasn't a crossroads demon after all, he was a Knight of Hell- _The_ Knight of Hell, the original of his order before he got tired of them all pestering and trying to 'threaten' _him_ of all people into doing things how they wanted. The resulting slaughter of all of them had been damn satisfying just to know they'd finally been shut up for good. If he'd known demons were so irritating, he would have considered letting Lucifer having his brother instead of taking his place a bit more seriously. Abel was always the one out of the two of them who could put up with irritating people easier, not him.

What was the point he'd been making? Of right- deals. He never bothered with them unless he had everything to gain from one and nothing at risk of losing in the slightest- it was the biggest reason he even took the one offered by the Potter's in '81. A cambion daughter of unrivaled power that he'd help train and influence when she was older? Reasonable gain, especially for a blasted book that any demon worth their wait in sulfur could have gotten their hands on just as easily as he did. But then there was the deal he made with one Vernon Dursley, not one year after his daughter had been sent to live with the man and his wife and kid.

Now Cain had seen plenty of men like Vernon; greedy, narrow-minded, short tempered, and overall an idiot. He knew the type, and he knew how to exploit them into making the kind of deal they think they're getting a good bargain with, only to end up losing more then they had to start with in the end. The first time he saw the man lock Amara in a cupboard under the staircase, he knew exactly how to get his revenge. A cambion was a force of nature, power uncontrolled by the laws of reality itself. They were not freaks, or 'its' or abominations like Heaven's angels liked to rant. 

But most importantly in this case, the cambion in question was his daughter of all things. And he was nothing, if not vengeful when a wrong was committed against his family.

So he walked up to Vernon one late night at the bar, having noted the third glass of scotch the man was working through, and he took the seat next to him and offered a deal. 

_"Ten years as the director of Grunnings, in exchange for one small little thing that I'll come to collect in ten years. Something so minor and unnoticeable, you won't even miss it when it's gone, I assure you. Sound fair?"_

Vernon, barely passable for sober at that point, actually took the deal without barely half a minute's thought, the idiot. Cain gave him what he said, and Vernon was promoted the next morning. A shame he never thought to ask for the pay raise he'd been told the position came with. Instead, he got more longer hours dealing with more irritating people for the same meager pay as his former position, and all the stress that came with keeping his new much more powerful supervisor's happy.

He regretted that it inevitably meant that the man would lash out against his family, they'd done nothing wrong themselves in Cain's mind. He regretted the likely much harder life he'd forced his daughter to live for the next ten years, but life wasn't always kind or fair. Better she learned that fact herself instead of him having to show her in person the cruelty the world could fester.

He felt it more then made up for the last ten years when, first thing on her eleventh birthday, his daughter got front row seats to watching the man who'd abused her and her aunt and cousin for so long, getting ripped to shreds. Murder was a decent birthday gift for an eleven year old, right? Eh, he thought so at least. He figured Amara wouldn't have smiled if she hated it.

He'd get his wife's opinion on the matter later, just in the event his ability to think rationally has been blurred slightly over the years... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cain is absolutely the kind of parent who would give his daughter front row seats to watching hellhounds eat someone alive as a birthday gift and think it's perfectly reasonable lol. He tries, and is going to struggle with it all in the future, because his paternal skills are kinda crap to be honest, but at least he's trying in his own psycho way to be an actual parent to the little hellspawn even if she's not aware of him actually being her father yet lol.


End file.
